Petals Falling

8.25" x 12" watercolor

I was drawn to do this still life to express an idea from a well-known story in Chinese culture:  A poet/calligrapher (a facet of my ancient Chinese hermit-scholar fantasy) was at his writing desk one day, working, a vase of flowers on the desk.  Noticing petals falling from the senescing flowers, he was overcome with a clear sense of the ephemeral nature of existence.  This was so dramatic that it changed his life.  Something so simple can be the greatest teacher.

This piece was started March 28, 2016, about 30 minutes before a surprise, life-altering event for a friend of mine I went to see that night.  The event is my friend's story to tell.  The coincidence of the timing of that event and this painting is significant to me because I was thinking strongly of this friend when I started the sketch.

La Negrita en Primavera

27 cm x 35 cm, watercolor, Spring 2014

"La Negrita en Primavera"

From my mind, onto which the composite of a multitude of images (all pretty much uniform) is still emblazoned.  It's because I did not use a reference picture that I was able to paint in a looser, mystical style.

I wanted to play with pearlescent watercolors, & I have long wanted to paint La Negrita.  The original statue is made of black basalt, so I thought she'd like to wear spring colors for a change ;P "The Little Black One" is Costa Rica's patron saint.  A huge proportion of CR's population + pilgrims from around the world participate in an annual pilgrimage to the basilica in which she is housed.  Many make the journey by foot; many crawl the last few kilometers or yards.  This website has an accurate description: http://pocketcultures.com/2012/08/03/costa-rican-annual-pilgrimage-to-honor-la-negrita/

La Negrita is one fascinating element of Costa Rican culture I learned while living there. 

~  The affection most Costa Ricans have for their patron saint is touching.  They speak of her like a good friend.  This is the most important take-home message.  

~  I was thrilled that this revered icon is black.  It begins to make up for the longtime distortion of the images of Jesus the Christ, the apostles, & other historical figures within non-Coptic Christianity.  Most of these people were not Scotch-Irish, Flemish, German, etc., as they are habitually depicted!  And the apostle Paul would not have ridden a horse, since only Roman soldiers were permitted to do so (and being a scofflaw had grave consequences).  I'm such a persnickety historian.  If you don't like it, just enjoy my picture & stop reading :)

~  I love the story that a little girl found her.  What would have happened if she hadn't given the "doll" to a priest?  

~  I have long been fascinated by enormous gatherings of humans for faith purposes.   "Miracle shrines" are also interesting.  In the basilica where La Negrita is housed, for example, numerous people have left behind crutches, neck braces, & other appurtenances of suffering healed.  Although science shows that some brains are more hard-wired for spirituality than others, this primal drive is undeniably encoded in our being.  Why?  What makes us do these things, especially when it often costs time & money?  How do "miraculous" healings happen?  Why don't other animals seem to share this propensity?  Why do many people insist that their faith's miracles are valid but those of other faiths are mere superstition?  How fast is this viewpoint shifting?  Why do we go on pilgrimage?  Could I consider it a "pilgrimage" to visit, for example, an illustrated copy of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English?  That was pretty special, too.  I was allowed  - under supervision -  to turn pages, but I had to wear white kid gloves.  In other words, what constitutes a "pilgrimage"?  For my fellow Montanans: What did John Wayne mean when he said, "Allright, Pilgrim..."?  That was the common nickname for homesteaders.

~  Despite what I know about history, theology, teleology, ontology, & other faiths/cultures, I still feel an overwhelming beauty in the power of sacred places, icons (including idols), music, gatherings, and so forth.  I sometimes attend various churches, & I always cry when we sing together.  My judgements based in history, etc. are suspended.

MAY YOU ENJOY THE COLLECTIVE VIBE OF FAITH GATHERINGS

Indian Writing

5.1 cm x 7.6 cm, 2B graphite & Not-2B eraser ;P

February 2016

From photos I took

"Indian Writing" would be a nice companion piece for "Steady Hand" (see Feb. 20 post).

The first two items are from photos I took at a heritage village, DakshinaChitra, on the Coromandel Coast of Tamil Nadu, South India:

~  an old writing tool (made of wood & metal, looks like a combination switchblade & hoof pick)

~  an old "book" of bamboo slats, bundled in its mid-section with a silk cord and sandwiched between two boards of elaborately carved wood

I don't know which language is written in the book.  I do know that some ancient Indian languages  - including Tamil -  were originally written on palm leaves.  Tamil, one of the most common languages of South India, is one of the oldest languages on the planet, yet it's still spoken by about eighty million people around the globe!

The writing tool was mounted to the wall on a plastic plate.  It was held open with fishing line (you can see its straight lines in the drawing) wrapped around a plastic knob (lower right corner of the mounting).  One thing I like about Indian museums I've visited is their resourcefulness in building displays.

The book was resting on a small plastic shelf, but I drew it as resting atop a stone.  A stone I saw somewhere else.

~  The stone is part of Kailasanatha Temple in Kanchipuram, Tamil Nadu.  This temple was built in the 8th Century CE.  Nearly every surface of it has elaborate carvings of images & of script.  Yet none of it is guarded by "cinema rope" or anything.  Most of its outer sanctum & fifty-eight smaller shrines are exposed to the weather & to people.  A behemoth, ancient work of art, left unprotected because it is still a living temple.  It contains a symbolic passage for circumambulating.  If you want to know the meaning, you will have to either visit or ask me ;)  If you think circumambulating is silly, quaint, or atavistic, you should get yourself over to the labyrinth at St Andrews Church on 24th St W (Billings, Montana) & just try it!  You will surely discover something.

I was thrilled out of my gourd when our guide pointed to this stone  - and other parts of the temple -  and told us that the script carved into it is in Pali.  Oh what a thrill!  Why is this so arresting?

1) Pali is the language of the Theravada Buddhist canon, the first known documentation (1st Century BCE) of the historical Buddha's oral teachings.  The Buddha wanted people to transmit his teachings in their own tongues instead of using Sanskrit, the language of scholars & of the priestly class.  Truly a man of the people.  The joy of seeing Pali was akin to the joy I would feel at seeing Aramaic, the language spoken by Jesus the Christ in a time when scholars & clerics used Greek & Hebrew.

2)  Pali had non-aspirated consonants, so it would have sounded very, very soft to the ears.  You can hear 14 seconds' worth here:  http://www.omniglot.com/soundfiles/smp_pali.mp3.  One thing that always strikes me about so many Dravidian people is the extraordinary softness in their speech and movements.  It's contagious.  I soften there.  On the last trip it started the moment I stepped out of the airport & smelled burning Water Buffalo dung / cow dung.  South Indians say "Slowly" quite often, a gentle reminder similar to Costa Ricans' "Tranquilo", but I have seen some running... in bare feet... on stone.  The day after I first ran & danced barefoot on marble, my heels were so painfully bruised I could hardly walk.  I never had that problem again because I've adopted that wonderful Dravidian softness... at least while I'm there.

Above the book at DakshinaChitra was a sign whose words & font I copied in this drawing.  I found it interesting that the sign was in English, one of a handful of linguae francae in India (with 23 official national languages).  I also get a kick out of the juxtaposition of "Please Do Not Touch The Exhibits" & all the historical objects & places that don't make this request.  I question reliance on our decent upbringing ;P

MAY YOU BE AWARE OF YOUR CONNECTION WITH ANCESTORS

MAY YOU RELAX INTO SOFTNESS IN YOUR BODY & HEART 

Keeping an Eye on You

 13 1/2" x 10 1/2", watercolor & watercolor pencil, December 2008

From a photo I took

I wondered if this Great Green Macaw, its beak tucked under its right wing, was trying to sleep.  I don't see how they can sleep, since they're so noisy! 

  My dad often said, w/ a wink & a smile, "Someone's always gotta keep an eye on you."  So even today, when I focus on the eye of a creature, I remember this & feel Dad's loving presence :))  And I get why he would think that....

My husband, his daughter, & I were illegal immigrants for about ten minutes when we entered Panama (en el camino to the Bocas del Toro Archipelago).  After passing inspection at the first passport-inspector, the next border guard denied us passage unless we had proof that we would return to Costa Rica.  What to do?  We had already walked  - carefully! -  across the dilapidated bridge into Panama (which quite a few Latinas glided across with surprising grace & aplomb in their stiletto heels).  

A helpful Panamanian told us we could go to a nearby kiosk & buy a bus pass, good for the rest of our lives.   A meager amount of dollars later, we presented our bus passes to the same border guard, who waved us through.  The same stranger who told us about the bus pass kiosk offered to lend me his jacket for the three days we would be in "Bocas" because it gets cold at night.  He also phoned the shack at the über-rustic boat dock, asked for me by name, and said he was calling to make sure we were being taken care of & didn't need anything.  This gentleman made up for the chap in the passport office who reproached Em & I for the USA's attack on Panama City... when I was at university & she was a small child.

Stay tuned for artworks that tell more true stories:

~   of how singing "Buffalo Soldier" along w/ a crazy-behaving person in Bocas made him smile warmly... then go away {Moral of the story: You never know what snippet of experience or knowledge you have that will help you in the future; life itself is education!}

~  of an even more nervy border crossing from Nicaragua to Costa Rica; being called into the border station for questioning because they thought I was taking a $20,000 cultural antiquity out of the country; the relief & bonhomie everyone in the station felt when we figured out my mistake {Moral of the story: Take whatever happens to you in good faith, & remember when the culture you're in uses commas vs periods!}  [The Nicaragua series (yeah, there are more cool stories) will probably be "framed" in cigar boxes.  There's a reason for that ;)  BTW nobody asked about the $4,000 hammock!]

~  of the 14+-hour flight from Dulles (in D.C.) to Dubai, seated between two Afghani brothers who treated me like a queen... we prayed together, sang, & laughed our heads off for hours {Moral of the story: Prepare, at all times, to be delighted.  "Nothing is exactly as it seems, nor is it otherwise."  - Alan Watts}

Metric tonnes of true stories are clamoring to come out of me!  They're drivin' me nuts!  But now that I've given them some airtime here, they will relax so I can make more art (whew!)....

MAY YOU NOTICE THE BEAUTY OF THIS WORLD & THE GOODNESS IN PEOPLE 

Hope is the thing with feathers

watercolor & watercolor pencil, 2009

size: ? I don't know.  Given as a greeting card to someone.

from a photo I took in our yard

"'Hope' is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops  - at all-

And sweetest  - in the Gale -  is heard - 

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land - 

And on the strangest Sea - 

Yet  - never -  in Extremity,

It asked a crumb  - of me."

- Emily Dickinson

from The Poems of Emily Dickinson, edit. R.W. Franklin, Harvard University Press, 1999

This is one of my favorite graces for mealtime/anytime: giving thanks for things in nature that don't demand anything of us.  

Provocative question: Does the universe operate on a quid pro quo basis?  Does your conclusion carry a prescription for how we should operate as humans?  How does this inform our relationship with the Divine?

I chose the Black-capped Chickadee for this poem because of (besides its Cute Factor) its remarkable ability to regulate its body temperature.  You could look it up ;)

Holding Her Station

24.2 cm x 32.7 cm soft pastel, May 2007

From my mind.  I have since learned that a bullfighter does not wear a flouncy scarf.  But I would ;P

Originally I made "Holding Her Station" to describe my overall feeling while being groomed to assume directorship of a prestigious, international, private, K-12 school in Costa Rica.  I had never lived outside of the USA, had a paltry command of Spanish (though I needed that as well as French, Russian, etc.), & was in a job w/ more challenges than I had encountered since puberty.  My characteristic, lifelong hiccups disappeared for two weeks!  But I felt so alive.  I felt like I was contributing in some bumbling manner, walking w/ a positive footprint... and standing in my suit of lights, facing El Toro (challenges).  You can see the "Whoosh!" of the air above my red cape.

{BTW while doing this piece, I thought that a toreador suit would make a fabulous (& highly visible) cycling kit!  Pearl Izumi said they would evaluate a design if it was patented.  There's an idea for you, anyone who wants to do this.  Just please make a woman-shaped version of it, too.  And notify me so I can buy one.}

Now I relate to this piece as a metaphor for facing the slavering bull of managing my time.  A brilliant cellist has curvature of the spine from his work.  A great & influential thinker got carbuncles on his bum from sitting to write his magnum opus.  A master painter had a disastrously messy home.  I am grateful to people like this for their sacrifices for their huge contributions to humanity, but I choose a more balanced, healthful life for myself.

I enjoy connecting w/ people (friends/strangers, in all moods/dispositions).  People delight & energize me.  I enjoy doing useful things, whether vigorous physical labor, serving food to homeless folks, brainstorming/meditating together, or listening to someone unload (or lock 'n' load, since I live in Montana).  This human experience is so unbelievably rich!  

        .... But I'm doing art now.  I've given the last two decades of time/energy to helping/working (w/ & w/out pay) & stepping up to the plate when someone needs something.  These next several years are for Lisa.  I must create art w/ improving proficiency so that I keep my life force; I am sealing the leaks.  I must hold my station every time someone suggests that I should do more of whatever they are doing.  Of course it's so nice to be invited & to know that other people want me around (thank you; I'm fond of you too).  Of course I will continue to step up to the plate for friends, & as the Divine guides me to.   Will my intention be easier to notice if I'm wearing a suit of lights?  

I like the Costa Rican way of stating what one does (for occupation or avocation):  "I dedicate myself to...."  ¡Y así, me dedico al arte hasta nuevo aviso!

¡MAY YOU DISCOVER & RUN WITH YOUR PASSION!

¡PUEDE QUE DESCUBRA Y CORRER CON SU PASION!

No Ordinary Ride

2" x 2" 2B graphite (& Not-2B eraser)

From a photo taken by Kristi Drake

This is also going into the Sunrise Gallery Miniature Artworks show.  A magnifying glass reveals cool details (the expression & action of the walking figure, the textured design of the iron streetlamp, the topiary in front of the building, etc.).   "No Ordinary Ride" shows me on an ordinary; all other elements are from my imagination.  See my post "Too Short for This Ordinary" for the full story.  

I did research images to use (w/ credits, of course), opted not to use them, but want to mention one potential source anyway because I was so jazzed up about what this blogger is getting across:  mcaputo of http://www.hoerrschaudt.com/what-makes-a-great-urban-street/.  I think often about how public spaces are places for social connection, physical activity, & mental vitality.  

May you enjoy these opportunities in my belovéd Billings, Montana :)